


Slow Sex with Misha

by Sophtly



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Cockles, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Slow Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophtly/pseuds/Sophtly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Misha's Birthday and he decides to use the opportunity to try something new with Jensen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Sex with Misha

**Author's Note:**

> It's not required, but I highly recommend listening to "Once Again" by Hang Massive while reading this fic as it's what inspired me to write it in the first place. I've been told by other readers that it greatly increases the enjoyment of the fic :) This is the youtube link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xk3BvNLeNgw
> 
> Also, I do not claim to know Jensen Ackles or Misha Collins personally and have no idea if they've ever been anything other than friends. This is just my personal head canon about two hot dudes that I dig, so don't get your knickers in a twist.

Misha closes the bedroom door behind them and walks across the room to the CD player. Jensen watches him and bites his lip. Misha’s wearing a plain white tee and loose gray cotton lounge pants that slide down as he walks, giving Jensen little peeks of his ass that have him swallowing thickly, breath hitching. He slides a CD into the player with careful precision, turning up the volume until the music fills the room. Oh god, what is this? It sounds like something that would be played at a yoga studio or some shit like that. He knows Misha has a little bit of hippie in him, but come on! He can’t really expect him to have sex to this.

 “Misha, who the hell is this?” He makes sure his tone lets him know he does not approve.

 “They’re called Hang Massive,” Misha answers, ignoring his tone completely.

 “Huh. Sounds eerily close to my high school nickname, “ he smirks.

 He rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Jensen. Now be quiet and listen to the music.”

 “I have been listening to the music, that’s exactly the problem.”

 “No, you’ve been hearing the music, you haven’t been listening to it,” he sounds patient, like he’s explaining something to a small child. Jensen huffs complaint but Misha only squints at him in exasperation before he says firmly. “It’s my Birthday and we’re doing this my way. Pay attention and I’ll make it worth your while.”

 Jensen’s stomach tightens with anticipation at that comment. He knows just how good Misha is at making things worth his while. He is standing about a foot in front of him, just looking at him and waiting. He sighs and forces himself to focus on the music. As usual, Misha was right. He hadn’t really been listening. There’s something about the tones. They sink down into him. He feels his whole body relaxing, and finds that he’s swaying a little bit with the music without consciously meaning to. His eyes close for a moment and when they open, Misha is smiling at him with a knowing look.. He opens his mouth to speak but Misha stops him with a finger to his lips and a little shake of his head.

 They stand there for a minute or two longer. The music thrums into their bones, weaves a spell around them. For the first bit the voices in his head won’t shut up. The itty bitty shitty committee that has haunted him since he was young likes to take over in moments like these. “Yeah, real macho guy standing here with your hippy boyfriend.” “What would your dad say if he could see you now?” “Your good ol’ Texas friends would say you’ve gone Hollywood for sure.” It’s an endless loop that has played many a time. Jensen manages to silence it though. It’s easier to do when Misha is there. When he looks at him all he can see is good, pure, light and nobody is going to tell him differently. Misha seems to feel the moment that he totally quiets his mind, falls into the trance of the music, and lets go. He gives him another small smile and Jensen returns it almost shyly.

 Misha’s hands curl around the bottom of his white tee and he starts pulling it over his head slowly, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of his tan, toned chest. He lets the shirt fall softly beside him, then reaches over to him and unhurriedly begins to remove his shirt too, letting his fingers drag along his torso as he lifts, and Jensen trembles under his touch. He doesn’t break eye contact the whole time, doesn’t even follow the shirt with his eyes as he drops it somewhere on the floor. Jensen couldn’t look away if he tried. Misha’s eyes are like a magnet, drawing him in.

 Misha finally breaks away, allows his eyes to sweep down Jensen’s body. Jensen feels his skin heat and flush, from that look alone. His eyes fall on Misha’s hip bones, rising just above his lounge pants, the perfect hollows that he has licked into time and time again and has never grown tired of. He wants to touch him right now, but Misha told him to pay attention and when he does, he knows it’s not what Misha wants from him. Misha is going to take this slow. Probably agonizingly slow, but he knows it will be worth it.

 Finally, Misha takes his hand and leads him to the bed. He presses him down into it, letting his hand rest possessively on his stomach for a moment. While Jensen watches, Misha stands by the bed and takes off his pants and underwear, a slow glide that brings pink to Jensen’s cheeks as he watches his cock pop free, already half hard. He leans over him and he lifts his hips so that Misha can do the same for him, leaving him naked on the bed. Misha steps back and rakes his eyes over him again, head to toe. He reaches forward and takes Jensen’s foot in his hand, rubs it as if it’s something magical, lays kisses down along the arch. Something in the back of his mind says this should be awkward, but he’s too busy enjoying it when Misha turns and does the same to his other foot before moving up his ankle. He keeps a leisurely progression up his body, hands following lips and tongue, touching every inch of him. He sinks his nose into his belly, hums softly against the skin. His hands are cupping his ass, the stubble on his chin still tickling his belly when he looks up and says “Everything about you is perfect.”

 Jensen is blushing because Misha is completely sincere and he doesn’t deserve someone looking at him like that. He never once deserved Misha. He spent way too much time pushing him away, trying to hide from him, only allowing him a piece of his heart. Yet Misha never gave up on him. He let him work through all that crap, never stopped giving him everything. He poured out his soul into him until one day he discovered that their souls were one and there was no going back. He feels like he’ll spend his whole life trying to repay him, but Misha acts like he doesn’t owe him anything. It’s his Birthday and he can do anything and he’s choosing to spend it here, worshiping Jensen’s body, opening him up to yet another new experience. He will never, ever deserve Misha. And he will never, ever stop being thankful that Misha wants him anyway.

 Misha’s mouth is on his nipple now. Jensen lets out a low groan, brushes his fingers gently down Misha’s spine, wants to kiss him so badly it’s a physical ache. Eventually he is up by his head, tongue flicking out to wet the curl of his ear. “You are so beautiful,” kisses his temple, brushes lips over his eyelids “You are lovely in every way.” Jensen is utterly undone. He gives in and pulls him to his mouth, presses against his lips like he’s dying for it because he feels like he is. He opens up to him and they kiss for a long time, smooth glide of tongues and hands. Misha moves on top of him, slots their bodies together, and they both have to stop kissing and catch their breaths as their cocks slide against each other, already wet and achingly hard.

 “Want you,” Jensen says against his mouth, “Need you.”

 “I know baby, I know,” he says. He puts a finger in Jensen’s mouth; lets him get it wet with his spit. The music is faster now. Deeper notes in a beat that fills him up as the finger slides between his ass cheeks, teases at his hole. The combination makes him feel dangerously close to a melt-down. He squirms on the bed, almost as if trying to get out of his own skin. Misha anchors him with his eyes, presses his hand into his hip, rubbing his thumb across the bone until he stills. He pushes his finger into him up to the knuckle and Jensen pushes against him, a long low whine escaping his lips. He works him gently, other hand still resting on his hip until he removes it to reach for the lube on the dresser.

 The loss of the finger inside him is almost painful and he finds himself squirming again. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” Misha says. He squirts lube onto his fingers before pressing his lips to the head of Jensen’s cock, forcing a sound out of his throat that is anything but dignified. He’d feel embarrassed except that Misha is looking at him with something like awe, his face a mass of emotion. His fingers are pressing into him again, two this time, swift and sure until they’re pressing up against that sweet spot, sending him bucking against his fingers, fucking himself down on them in a moment that is nothing but pure instinct. The hand on his side brings him back down, allows him to breathe into the sensation as Misha hits the spot again and again. He adds another finger easily, Jensen’s already so open, his body loose and willing.

 He’s sweating, little drops all over his body, and Misha licks it out of the hollow of his throat, mouths along his jaw, still fucking him with his fingers. “Please,” Jensen says, “Please.” It’s all he manages, but it’s enough. Misha pulls back and slicks up his cock and presses into him, bottoming out in one smooth stroke. He can’t breathe for a moment, the feeling of fullness is overwhelming- a deep, searing pleasure. They kiss and it’s wet and sloppy, haphazard with need. Misha starts to move, dragging in and out, in and out, it’s almost in time to the music, a rhythm that is neither slow nor fast. He’s whispering in his ear. Random bits of poetry, things he loves about Jensen, why he can’t live without him. Some of it makes sense, some of it doesn’t, but neither of them cares. He realizes that his eyes are wet with tears. He feels “the committee” yelling in the back of his head , but he backhands them all into silence. He doesn’t care how unmanly it is to cry during sex because Misha is fucking into him hard and sweet and whispering gorgeous nonsense into his ear and he finally, finally feels whole.

 They’re overwhelmed and lost to each other and to the rhythms of the music, the slow slip and slide of sweat as they push against each other. They’re trembling, falling apart slowly in each other’s arms. Misha reaches for his hand and threads their fingers together, his other hand closes around Jensen’s cock and it only takes a few strokes before Jensen’s coming, spurting hot between them, coating his stomach. He’s clenching around Misha and his eyes flutter closed, he pushes into him a few more times before he comes too. He feels him coating his insides and it fills him with deep satisfaction.  “I love you,” he breathes, “I love you so fucking much, Misha.”

 Misha collapses on top of him for a moment, still buried deep inside him. They’re hot and sticky and ridiculously happy. “So, did you decide you like this music after all?” Jensen can hear the smile in his voice.

 “Yeah, man,” his words are almost slurring, he’s so spent. “‘s fucking awesome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please let me know. Also let me know if there's anything I can do differently/better in the future. You can find me on tumblr at Sophee83 if you want to chat or squee over pretty boys with me.


End file.
